Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
Disclaimer: The characters and fictional placings of either of these shows do not belong to me. They belong to Cameron/ Eglee (Dark Angel), Joss Whedon (BtVS) and Whedon/ Greenwalt (AtS). Only the story belongs to me.
Rating: 13 (for now)
Genre: Crossover of DA/ BtVS
Type: WiP
Time line/ Spoilers: Post Season 5 for Buffy. Up to LAtR for DA. Story set in DA time.
Summary: BtVS/ DA crossover. Life brings about so many changes. Especially when one has just risen from the dead.
Distribution: Is under the discretion of the author, so please ask instead of taking please.
Reviews: While I may not always respond to reviews, they are always welcome!
Darkening Of The Light
Chapter Twenty-one
May 31st, 2021
8:21 p.m.
Seattle, WA
Fogle Towers, penthouse suite
“I think I'm ready.”
Tara studied her recently resurrected friend carefully for a moment after she had made that pronouncement. Buffy still looked extremely fragile in her mind. But she knew also that keeping this from her friend would be more detrimental than helpful at this point in time. Buffy didn't have the time to acclimate to the changes that had been wrought in her personal life. Let alone any other way. But at the same time, hiding things from her was not the way to go. Tara had learned that over and over in her early life and she was determined to listen to the way the winds blew now. She just would try to be careful not to overload Buffy's mind, to be gentle, to try to harm none.
As one part of her mind worked on ordering the events after Buffy's death and the vanquishing of Glory, another part idly wondered what Buffy's cousin and his friends thought of all this. She knew that the second part of this evening would be spent answering their questions as best she was able. That, while being a task in and of itself, depending on how open they were to magic and esoteric ways, would be easier than the task she faced now. They had no connection, other than through Buffy to these past events and people.
Finally Tara drew in a deep breath, silently asking whatever deity or power might be listening to help her and Buffy through this time that would be a trial. She could sense that much. The future might very well be shaped by how Buffy dealt with these sudden, to her, losses.
“Right after your passing,” Tara began quietly and Buffy stilled the fidgeting motions she had unconsciously been indulging in. “We held a private burial, so that we could try and give Dawnie some cl-closure. I don't kn-know if you saw the h-headstone?”
Buffy quickly shook her head in the negative and then her face screwed up, as if she was trying to remember. “I remember there being one. It... had my name. I...” she paused and swallowed heavily, as if everything about that night, the pain of it was still weighing on her. “It was hard to see. My vision was... very blurry.”
Tara nodded acceptingly. But it was information that she filed away in her mind. Not that she was ever expecting to raise another friend from the dead. She knew better now. She had known better then. But she had believed in Willow, in the strength of her lover's beliefs and power. Perhaps that had been part of the problem. But she turned back to what Buffy had said. She knew at some point that she and Angel would probably need to research exactly what had occurred that night, her resurrection, and every last little detail would be helpful. That was also part of the conversation that she needed to have with Logan and the others.
“Well,” she went on with a smile, “Dawn was the one that chose the epitaph,” her voice was strong again. “I'll tell you the story about that later,” she decided and Buffy nodded tiredly. “You know a little about afterwards, since we were all taking care of Dawn. But what I didn't tell you was that after your death, Willow figured out how to repair the robot that Warren made. Do you remember it?” By the face that her friend made, Tara was sure that she had.
“The one that Spike had him make?” Buffy frowned and then shivered slightly. “I remember.”
“Well,” Tara went on, “we decided that it was in our best interest to make it appear as if you were still alive and protecting the hellmouth.” Buffy nodded slowly, the Slayer in her seeming to approve of the strategy. A part of her mind that was active, alert and aware even if Buffy the girl, had to shut herself down at any given moment.
“So we were using the... 'bot,” Tara amended, even though then, in private they'd always called it the Buffybot. That didn't seem very respectful of their friend and Tara knew she needed to step carefully here. “Not just for patrolling, but for making it appear to Social Services and the school that Dawn's guardian was ably taking care of her.” She smiled gently at Buffy's quirked, upraised eyebrows. “Since it was programmable, and didn't need sleep, or much downtime when it was recharging, everything was handled quickly, efficiently, but without emotion that wasn't already programmed to be displayed.”
“So it was better at handling... things?” Buffy asked sadly, the wariness touching her eyes. And Tara shook her head.
“Meals, schedules, point and kill slayings, yes,” Tara explained as precisely as possible. “But for giving growing up advice, cuddling with Dawn, all the human interactions that Dawn needed, weren't there. We tried to fill in as much as possible, but it wasn't the same,” Tara sighed, remembering the nights, aching to go to Dawn as she huddled in her room, crying. Eventually the tears had slowed, right along the time the rebellious behavior had been amplified. One form of showing her grief had been traded for the other.
“So I bet Dawn's teachers loved that thing,” Buffy grunted, slightly frustrated. Tara nodded. “Always having the right answer.”
“Not always,” Tara smiled again. “But it managed and we were usually around to smooth things over.”
“So if you had the... 'bot,” Buffy stumbled, her lips twisting distastefully, “what was the problem?”
“Because we had the 'bot,” Tara tried to lead into this gently, because it was only going to get worse as the conversation went on. She knew that much about how her friend would react. Or at least, how she once would have. “Well, Giles decided that with all of us working together, the 'bot, Xander, Anya, Spike and I, with Willow using her magics to direct us so none were taken unaware, that he was done.”
“Done? What does that mean?” Buffy demanded, her voice rising slightly. Tara placed a hand close by, but Buffy seemed to calm herself on her own and gestured for Tara to continue.
“He tried to work with the 'bot,” Tara explained. “Help it appear more human and train it. Treat it as if it were the Slayer. But in his heart, he knew the difference. He was grieving for you and, well, now that I've had time to reflect on it, we weren't letting him. Right after, we were dependent on him to get us through, but as Willow grew more confident in her role, with her magic, we turned to him less and less. And when he finally admitted that it was useless to treat the 'bot as he would have you, he gave up. He lost whatever drive it was that he had, when you were alive. So he decided to go back to England. I don't think we realized then, what he was telling us.”
“That he'd lost his way, his purpose?” Buffy realized astutely and Tara nodded, smiling slightly. Xander had been right. Buffy and Giles had always understood each other best, when no one else seemed to.
“He had,” Tara agreed. “And though we thought that he was walking away from us, telling us that we were strong enough now to be the adults we were meant to be, we believed him. But he was asking us for a reason to stay. And we believed that we were powerful, even though on the surface we acted like we were weak. I think most of us,” there were some exceptions there, “put so much faith in Willow's plan, that Giles' leaving didn't matter at the time.”
“What plan?” Buffy asked in a deadly quiet voice. As much as she had always tried to support her friends, there had been warning bells in her mind that had always sounded. Even as she wore a cheerful face for them, privately, silently, she worried and fretted, looking at the dark side of the coin, trying to be prepared for the worst. It was all she could do, because on the hellmouth, it would always happen and when it did, well... It always came down to Buffy. She was the last line of defense and whether it be the forces of darkness or the forces of friends gone wrong, she would win the day.
“The plan to bring you back,” Tara sighed. She waited for Buffy to say anything, but the girl was silent. She must have put some things together in her own mind and Tara hadn't contradicted whatever she had decided, so the blond witch continued. “Willow had found a ritual that would allow us to bring you back.” She held up a hand in case Buffy decided to protest. “Since you died a mystical death, it wouldn't have been the same as raising something else. A normal death, what would come back would be dark and unnatural. That wouldn't have been the case with you.”
“Yeah, 'cause I'm all with the cheery and lightness now,” Buffy snorted, her arms and legs crossing as she seemed to shrink into herself, glancing away to stare at the floor for a moment. “Sorry,” she finally murmured. “Go ahead.”
“Willow had just found the last piece that we needed,” Tara recalled. “The Urn of Osiris. We had planned the ritual and it was to take place the evening after Giles left. We decided not to say anything, in c-case, well,” she took a deep breath and in a rush the words came out. “In case that something went wrong with the spell.”
“On the hellmouth?” Buffy quipped sarcastically, though there was none of her remembered quippiness about her. Tara nodded. “Wait, who all decided this?”
“Willow, Anya, Xander and myself.”
“So Dawn didn't...? Or Spike?”
Tara nodded again. “Again, for the same reasons. We didn't want to get their hopes up.”
“That's good,” Buffy murmured, thinking more on Dawn than she was on the Vampire.
“Of course,” Tara continued, “being not so super beings and even with the 'bot, we weren't able to keep up with the influx of demons that had moved into the hellmouth. That night, Spike was watching over Dawn and the 'bot was patrolling. We had started the ritual. Unfortunately,” Tara's eyes took on a faraway look as she started recalling the night in greater detail. “The 'bot was injured during a fight. Willow had programmed it to return to her whenever it needed to be repaired. It had a homing beacon.”
“It led the demons right to you?” Buffy groaned and Tara shrugged one shoulder. Obviously it had.
“The demons interrupted the ritual at a crucial point,” she explained. “They destroyed the urn and without it, there was nothing that could be done.” She exhaled gustily. “All we could do was run. Willow was... injured from the testing of her power. Xander took her and ran, while Anya and I went the other way.” Buffy nodded. Tara hugged herself around the middle and smiled sadly. “I don't even know how we survived that night. If it hadn't been for Spike...”
“Spike left Dawn?” Buffy gasped, outraged. Tara shook her head.
“No, demons attacked the house and he got her out,” Tara explained rapidly. “He was taking her to safety but by then, the demons had caught up with the 'bot. He told me about it later,” she offered. “They,” she bit at her lower lip. This was one of the things that she was unsure as to how Buffy would react. “They wrapped her in chains and tore her apart.” But Buffy, having no emotional ties to the thing that she had never once admitted was like her in any small way, barely reacted to that. It was a thing, not a person. And since Spike and Willow had fiddled with the thing's programming, it would barely contain even the smallest spark of what made Buffy real.
“Dawn saw that?” was her only question about it. Tara sighed.
“She did,” she finally answered. “From what Spike said, the 'bot told Dawn before it... died, I guess you could say, that it was glad that Dawn got to be her sister. And that they, meaning it and you, would always love her, no matter where they were in this universe. Dawn of course, was upset and she ran off. But Spike followed her,” she assured her friend before Buffy could protest. “That's when they caught up to us. We had met back at the magic box, which the rioting demons had destroyed. In the alley, we were surrounded and Willow was so weak. We tried to fend them off and it worked a little. Spike stashed Dawn in as safe as an area he could find and then rescued us. Willow had just enough magic left at that point to destroy the leader and Spike took care of the rest.”
“So did the demons leave, or what?” Buffy wondered. Tara shook her head in the negative.
“It took Willow too long to recover,” Tara remembered. “And with the 'bot destroyed, we were in trouble. Spike made the decision. He c-called Angel.”
Buffy's eyes widened, unbelieving. She knew exactly what the two Vampires had thought of one another and obviously Tara knew the same. She smiled widely again. “Spike told me that he had promised you that he'd take care of Dawnie. And he also told me, right before he called Angel, that if he had to make a deal with the devil, he'd do that too.”
Buffy snorted out what could be construed as a laugh and then grew quiet again. “He came?”
“He did,” the witch confirmed. “He came the moment Spike called. I guess he had just returned from Tibet.” Buffy's eyes narrowed and darkened. “He didn't handle the news about your death very well.”
“No,” Buffy agreed, remembering when she had skewered Angel with that blessed sword, sending a souled man to hell for the crimes of the unsouled Vampire demon.
Of course he had come back, eventually and while Buffy shuddered at the brief memories of that time, she pushed the thoughts in her mind away. She was still too delicate she knew to try handling those implications of where she had sent Angel to. “So he, Angel, came and helped?”
“He did,” Tara nodded. She remembered finally getting to meet Angel properly, being able to see and sense for the first time, the soul in the demon, how dual his nature truly was and the constant fight he endured to stay on the truly righteous path of a champion. But since it had been Buffy's last wish, to care for Dawn, even though it hadn't been uttered to Angel, he had taken up the cause immediately. Her lips curved as she remembered those early days. “There were some power struggles, between them, of course,” she related. She paused for a moment, swallowing, wishing now that she'd been able to take up that young man's offer of water.
But protecting Buffy's secret was more important. Not because of the secret itself, but because Buffy needed the time to understand everything before she made decisions like the ones she had before. Deciding whether or not to bring new people into her sphere. Tara had no delusions of what the life of a Slayer was like. It didn't seem to matter whether she was like Buffy or Faith or any of the other girls. A Slayer's life was hard, brutal and most of all, short.
“Angel had to divide his time at first between Los Angeles and Sunnydale,” Tara explained and Buffy nodded. “There was almost as much demonic activity there as with the hellmouth. But then, it's a much larger city,” she mused, experience of living there a good portion of her adult life had her defensive, just slightly, but then she recalled that Buffy had lived there too, once. She sighed, knowing that they would be moving into another emotionally dangerous portion of their history.
“When Angel realized that his presence wasn't helping as much as we hoped,” Tara was the one fidgeting now as Buffy sat still as a statue on her seat. The only sign of life, aside from the most obvious were her eyes, narrowed and calculating. “Well, he made the decision to retrieve Faith, from prison.”
But instead of making an outcry, Buffy simply nodded. “That would be he expedient thing to do,” she agreed mildly and then sighed and tilted her head to the side. “Angel always had a great amount of...” she grinned, just slightly, when she realized the overt pun she had been about to make. “He believed that Faith could do better if only someone believed in her.”
Tara nodded, not saying, but she had felt the same way about Faith after seeing the woman's penance and the turn around in her desire to do good. To make amends. It had been rough going all around. “Well, he managed some way of getting her out on some technicality,” Tara mused. “Something to do with some files that a law firm had. Well, he brought her to town and set her up in an apartment not far from the house. He didn't want to push her presence on us. But he wanted her close in case we needed help.” Again, Buffy simply nodded.
“How... how did the gang take it?” she wondered, but truthfully, she was only worried about Dawn.
Tara though, was an astute reader of the human mind, more so when it was someone she had been close to. “Dawn wanted nothing to do with her,” she recounted. “And Willow and I were wary around her at first. Anya was fine with her as long as it was clear that she kept her hands of Xander.”
Buffy smirked at that, remembering the ex-demon's fits and rants. Some of which had been directed at Buffy herself. “And how did Xander feel about her?” Curiosity won out.
“He was all for giving her the benefit of the doubt,” Tara smiled. Xander always had been the biggest hearted individual she'd known. “He figured that since we were going to be working with her, to try and let bygones be bygones. And with that in mind, we worked with Faith as much as we could, but with a, w-well, a real Slayer,” and here she peeked up at her friend, but Buffy was still contemplative, “back in town, things settled down again, pretty much.”
“But I guess there was something waiting to happen, huh?” Buffy noted sarcastically.
“That's about the time that social services, found out through the school, that they hadn't been able to get in touch with you,” Tara recalled sadly. “The first few times that the social worker came by, we managed to foist her off with stories of you being out, looking for work or getting groceries, things like that. But then, well, someone, we don't know who, we suspect someone from the school overheard Dawn say something and reported it.”
“What did she say?” Buffy frowned, her eyebrows furrowing deeply. Even though she herself had reamed Dawn out for not thinking before she acted, she also knew how devastated the girl was when her mouth ended up running away from her and chaos ensuing in the aftermath. Just take Dawn being kidnapped, through her own stupidity as an example.
“We're not sure,” Tara sighed. “All I know is that Willow had devised a plan to create a spell to modify her voice to yours and was going to use a glamor to look like you. Those were the ingredients that Spike was picking up for her when he was trapped by the sunlight. And Angel, he was having to spend more time in Los Angeles, so he wasn't there either.” She drew in a deep breath before she went on. “The case worker showed up with a officer of the law and demanded entry into the house. Well, we were trying to keep things calm. They demanded to know where you were and we were so surprised by the officer being there that we all gave her different answers. The woman said that she suspected that you had abandoned Dawn and that we were covering for you.”
Buffy's outraged gasp was a balm to Tara's still raw emotions over the whole sequence of events.
“When we couldn't produce you,” Tara's voice had dropped to a whisper now, “the woman told us that she was taking Dawn into protective custody. That your father had already been notified, since they wanted to know if he had heard from you. He was on his way and custody would be transferred back to him.
Of course we were all devastated,” Tara concluded and Buffy nodded shakily. She knew, sort of, what came after that. Dawn had been taken, given to her father, Spike had followed them. But the rest...
“Do you mind if I get myself a glass of water?” Tara spoke quietly and made a sort of half grimacing smile. “All this talking.”
“Oh of course,” Buffy nodded quickly. Realizing that the only glass in her room was full of disintegrated burned paper, she stood from her chair and gestured towards the door. “I think I could use some as well. Let's go to the kitchen. Will the spell...?”
“It's on the room until I lift it,” Tara explained as she stood as well. Buffy preceded her out the door and they made their way down the hallway. The apartment was silent and when they passed the living room, both were surprised to see that Logan and his friends were not there. But then Buffy smiled as she turned in the direction of Logan's office. She made her way over to the room that she had studiously avoided, as per her cousin's request. But now, the door stood open and both women could hear Alec and Max arguing over something.
“It's my turn Alec!” Max growled out and there were what sounded like slaps of some sort being exchanged. “You've had it long enough!”
“Get off Max!” he grunted and there were more slaps. “This one is mine! Get your own.”
“Technically it's Logan's,” Max retorted and they heard a thump. “And he gave it to me first!”
“I have more,” Logan's voice interrupted tiredly. “You two don't need-! Hey, watch it!”
“Sorry!” both of the younger adults apologized, almost by rote.
“But if Alec here would just-!” Max grunted this time and there was another thump.
Buffy came to a halt at the doorway that was opened up in an unusual turn of life in her cousin's home. She crossed her arm and leaned on the door jamb as Tara, slightly taller, looked on over her shoulder. She glanced down at Buffy's countenance, pleased to see a small smile playing on the blond's lips. She turned back to the scene before her, her eyes sweeping around the computer monitors and towers, the video equipment and shelving. She refrained from commenting on how much all of this must have cost Logan Cale to put together, remembering how they had had to scrimp and save and rustle up donations for their two computer systems, one for the store and inventory and one for Tara's office that she gladly let others use.
Logan was seated in a rolling chair before one of the computer screens and Tara smiled when she recognized the web site that he was at. She had been very proud when Denise designed it and showed her around the virtual tour of the commune. Tara had been surprised how many people visited the site on a daily basis, right from the first. He was watching tiredly as Max and Alec appeared to fight over something that Alec was grasping in his hand and keeping from Max by the simple expedience of holding over his head. With his much taller frame, Max was unable to simply grab it from him. And as they watched, Max made another jump, but Alec simply leaned back, out of her trajectory. The thump as she landed, told them that this was not her first attempt.
“Having fun?” Buffy finally asked, her voice laced with something that could be called amusement. All three however, stilled and then spun around. Logan flushed immediately and started checking around the room, for what they did not know, but after a moment he stilled once more.
Max and Alec on the other hand, seemed locked into their childish antics and stared at the two blond women with wide eyed 'hand in the cookie jar' looks that quickly transmuted, in the same moment, to innocence as Alec swiftly lowered his arm.
“Maxie here was trying to steal my pencil,” he explained affably, smiling widely at them, well, more at Buffy. He held out his hand, palm flat to show them and Max took the chance to steal it from him.
“My pencil thank you very much,” Max snarked, cradling it to her chest.
“Uh huh,” she muttered, shaking her head and then turned to her cousin. “Are they always like this?” He nodded tiredly and then chuckled.
“Yes and sometimes there's actual fighting and breaking of furniture,” he teased, though Tara sensed that he wasn't kidding about that, judging by the way Max and Alec were suddenly studying anything that wasn't the other. She could have sworn she heard Alec mutter about paying Logan back. She smiled, wondering if he meant for the teasing, or for any furniture that had been destroyed.
“I wouldn't feel too bad,” she smiled gently. She put her hand on Buffy's shoulder and smiled down on her. “Dawn shot a crossbow bolt into the wall and when she pulled it out, it brought a whole chunk of plaster with it. She hid it for two days by putting the ficus in front of it”
Buffy huffed, her eyes wide, “what moron let Dawn have a crossbow?” she complained and then quickly realized that it had been from her stash of weapons. After all...
“Xander,” Tara giggled. “He was cleaning it for Willow's presentation on medieval weaponry at college,” she covered, including the rest of the group in her explanation. Buffy nodded in a long suffering way. “He did repair the wall though. And made Dawn help.”
“So you're saying,” Logan grinned too, pleased to see so much reaction, and not negative, from his cousin. “That I should be thankful it's not worse? Or more often?”
“Both, I suppose,” Tara grinned agreeably.
“So,” Alec, his hands now empty, clapped them together in his common bid to gather attention back to himself. “Did'ja have a good chat?”
“Mmm,” Buffy shrugged the shoulder that wasn't pressed up against the door jam, “still with the chatting. But Tara's throat was getting dry. Mine too,” she explained with clipped words.
“Well feel free to help yourself to anything in the refrigerator,” Logan invited and watched as his cousin nodded and pushed away from the door. She had only gone two steps when Tara leaned a little forward.
“Just to let you know,” she intoned, directing her words at Alec and Max, “it works better, the first time you try floating a pencil, if you're outside. Really connect with the earth to help the magic flow. Just a little tip.”
With that, she pulled the door shut and all three still in the room, were startled to hear the giggles that quickly faded as the two old friends moved off to the kitchen.
“Did you hear that?” Max asked, a little breathless.
“She was laughing,” Logan commented, the wonder in his voice echoing hers. Alec however, just looked smug as his arms crossed over his chest. “Not much, but a real laugh, huh?”
“Guess seein' her friend helped more than we thought it would,” Max nodded as she looked thoughtfully down at the writing implement still clutched in her hand.
Alec on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten all about trying that little experiment for favor of musing how much... better Buffy looked. There had been color in her face. She hadn't flinched at all when Tara had spoken about her sister. Had been able to giggle over Tara's teasing of them, understanding exactly what was happening. He was... glad for her.
He could admit to himself that he liked seeing depths in her hazel eyes. Instead of that emptiness, or the constant fear and pain. There was of course, a certain hint of resignation, but he was quite sure that they were touching on so many heavy subjects this night. And many more to come when they had their turn to grill the Maclay woman.
Still, she had looked... beautiful. A little more of the way she should look and for some reason that he didn't delve into, that made Alec happy.
Chapter Twenty-two
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